


she said 'what if i dive deep?'

by SeptemberSevertana



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angella is a badass, Badass characters of color, Catra is a gang boss, Catra is very gay, Everyone's here for some butch girls, F/F, Gang AU, Gay calculus, Glimmer is very gay, I'm serious there is murder, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Justice for Angella, Language, Lesbian Characters of Color, Morally Grey Adora, Morally Grey Catra, Morally Grey Glimmer, Past Child Abuse, Post-Season/Series 03, Shadow Weaver is the root of all evil, Violence, cower before her wrath, just be prepared for some ugliness, more so than usual for me, there are no completely moral people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 08:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeptemberSevertana/pseuds/SeptemberSevertana
Summary: Gang AU. Catra is a badass with a past. Glimmer is cute. Adora is a traitor. Bow is complicit with the traitor-ness. Shadow Weaver is a terrible person, but that's not new. Angella is austere and scary as hell. Scorpia helps.AKA, Catra protects her own. No matter what.





	she said 'what if i dive deep?'

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, Season Three killed me. It killed a lot of people, I think. Also, I just experienced a big change in my life, a big change that left me with a lot of free time, so instead of writing four thousand words in a month or so and giving it to everyone I know to edit it, I wrote eleven thousand words in two weeks and only gave it to two people to edit it. 
> 
> This story is inspired by every bad girl on a motorcycle trope, the remake of 'Fruits Basket', this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yi6PQfFTMk0 from which I took a couple phrases that I found hilarious, and how much I hate Shadow Weaver and love Glitra. If I was leaning away from Catradora anyway, this season killed that ship completely and made room for me as a die-hard Glitra fan. 
> 
> Story title from 'Honesty' by Pink Sweat$. It is such a beautiful song. I listened to it maybe thirty times while writing this. Please look it up, your life will be better from its presence.

“She came to school today?” 

“What the fuck? I thought she’d ditched this shithole long ago.” 

“Get out of her way; go, go, go, it’s better for your health.” 

“Bitch.” 

“What do you mean, you don’t know who that is? Oh, you sad little freshman, lemme tell you a story.” 

…

It started with a motorcycle. Because why the fuck not? She’d worked two towns over to pay for that thing in cash, and people took notice because the bike was badass. 

They said it purred, earning her the nickname of Catra. 

She’d figured out how to park the bike across two parking spaces on the day she bought it. Pissing people off gave her a little tingle of pleasure, especially the selfish fuckheads who complained when the barista was a minute late with their almond milk frappe or they had to pitch in a hundred dollars on a brand spanking new Porsche for their birthdays. Catra loved taking the piss out of people like that. 

…

“She’s an Ouro, right?” 

“Filthy snake. I have no clue why we don’t fuck up that piece of trash she calls a bike.” 

“Snake?” 

“Do you know about the Ouroboros gang?” 

…

Catra had been with the Horde through sophomore year of high school. Stupid assholes didn’t know who they’d let out of their sight until it was too late. One minute, her gang, her _ people _, are riding high with her, terrorizing the streets, and the next minute, they’re beating the shit out of her. So what, she called out the hypocrites leading them? The ones who stole all their loot and then some? 

Ouros haunted the West Side then. She wandered into their territory, bruised and bloody, and managed to scare the lower-level cronies enough to get an audience with the boss. Lashor had taken one look at her and laughed. Catra had left him unconscious on the floor. 

She’d earned the jacket fair and square. Pulled it off Lashor’s form. Catra threw it in the laundry a block over and slung it on her shoulders once the blood came out. 

…

“How long has it been since she’s been here?” 

“A couple months? She hates Christmas.” 

“She hates joy and love and puppies and human beings. Christmas just happens to encompass all of those things.” 

…

Some male chauvinist challenged her authority at Christmas. Catra couldn’t even remember his name. He wasn’t worth the trouble. 

He ended up in the hospital, knife slashes up and down his chest and breathing with the help of a tube down his throat. Catra made it out with several cuts and bruises but broke her arm. Until she could leave her sanctum without the cast, she stayed inside, ordering food online and following the doctor’s instructions to the letter. She couldn’t afford to show weakness, not then, not ever. 

Catra did hate Christmas, though. It was a parade of trite movies and guilting people into buying affection from each other. Christmas represented the most consumer-driven holiday of all time, except maybe Valentine’s Day. 

…

“She’s looking at us. Why is she looking at us? What did we do?” 

Catra snorted. “You heard of staring into space, doll?” 

The pink-haired girl who’d been talking blushed deeply. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“Good.” Winking, Catra swung her hips as she walked away. Flustering pretty girls and inspiring fear into the hearts of lesser creatures. Fuck, she loved being her. 

* * *

Catra snapped her gum. When she’d sat down, she’d slid forward in her seat so that her legs could kick at the back of the other person’s chair. Arms folded, she glanced over at the homework neatly stacked on the desk next to her. Math. Ugh. 

She knew enough math to know how to collect dues and divide large piles of loot among her associates. Smaller piles stayed with their collectors, and larger ones were divided by percentage, fifty to the collectors and the rest divided evenly between everyone else. Nobody got her loot, and she didn’t take anybody else’s unless she knew the money would benefit the younger ones. 

Anyway. This math was useless. 

“Today we’ll be revolving functions around axes and integrating to find the volume.” The teacher paused. “Catarina? You’re back.” 

“I am. And?” A couple of snaps of her gum. 

The teacher nodded. “We begin by determining which formula we use based on which axis we’re revolving around.” 

Her classmates, beyond the general aura of fear seeping from them, virtually ignored her, bent over their notes like someone had pushed them into sixty-degree angles and frozen the picture. Motionless, other than their rapidly writing hands. The girl from earlier wasn’t here, Catra noted, scanning the room. Shame. She liked her. 

The scan turned up something Catra had no desire to see, however. A blonde ponytailed head that had relaxed throughout the note-taking process sat next to a curly-topped undercut whose head bobbed side to side to its own internal music. 

Adora. And her sidekick, Bow. 

Scum. 

…

Adora had been found in a dumpster soon after she was born. She was obviously from a rich, white family, and probably the product of stupid teenagers not knowing how to keep it in their pants. Shadow Weaver, the second-in-command of the Horde, had taken her in and raised her as her own. Catra’s parents had been killed during a turf war, so she and Adora grew up together under Weaver’s direction. 

Weaver was a manipulative bitch who never should have raised children. Catra remembered thinking in middle school that she would have rather died than lived another day with her. She played with Adora and Catra’s emotions, set them against each other, regularly beat Catra and gave Adora more than one concussion resulting in memory loss. 

Adora escaped. Catra wasn’t so lucky. 

When they were thirteen, Adora had packed her bags and ditched the gang, roughing up any members that tried to come after her. Eventually, the Horde cut their losses and now her name was taboo. She didn’t take Catra with her. They were closer than blood, and Adora left her in the shit to die. 

Catra nearly did. 

Gangs were all about loyalty. Nobody leaves, nobody snitches. You’re a lifetime member or you’re a goner. 

Adora was a traitor of the worst kind. And Catra would never forgive her. 

…

“Are you okay?” someone asked. 

Catra opened one eye. “Who’s asking?” 

“Uh...Glimmer. I’m in the next math class. The other one ended a couple minutes ago, I was just wondering if you planned on moving.” 

Catra opened both eyes, flicking them up and down the form of the girl who’d interrupted her ruminating (fucking SATs, they never left you). “Doll, I’ll move when I damn well please.” 

Pink-hair-girl (Glimmer) (Jesus, were her parents on acid when they named her?) blushed, but angrily this time. “That’s my seat. When you go to your next class, I’ll take it.” 

“Who says this isn’t my next class? I slept through most of the last one, might as well pay attention this time.” 

Glimmer fumed a little, her cheeks reddening further. Fuck, blushing was cute on girls. Like freckles, which Glimmer had a lot of. “Find another seat, please.” 

“Nah, I’ll keep this one.” Catra didn’t feel like threatening a hottie today, but dammit, she just wanted to sit and absorb math without thinking about Adora. 

“Fine.” Glimmer set her backpack on the floor and opened it, taking out a pink, sparkly notebook with a pencil to match. From there she sat directly on the desktop, crossing her legs (damn, those thighs) (Catra was gay, so gay, what the fuck) and ignoring Catra entirely, focusing on the board. 

“You’re blocking my view,” Catra said finally, after craning her neck to look around Glimmer the first five minutes of the lesson. 

“You’re the one who didn’t want to move desks, _ doll _,” Glimmer drawled, finishing an integral with a flourish. 

Catra didn’t have anything to say to that. For once. 

(It was really hot, actually. Catra didn’t think Glimmer would appreciate hearing that, though.)

Folding her arms, Catra just tried to listen to the lecture, eyes open, looking anywhere but at Glimmer. Fucking disc method. She remembered consistently mixing it up with shell method and then getting the wrong damn answer so she better remember it this time. The little rectangles were also supposed to go different directions depending on which method you used, so she had to remember that, too. 

Catra had always been better at the homework problems that just gave you an integral and told you to solve it, not this mess of ‘your best judgment’. 

“Alright, homework is on page 386, do numbers two through thirty-eight evens. You know my policy: if you use Slader, you have to tell me so I can silently judge you,” the teacher concluded. 

The class stood up, gathering their textbooks and pencils and backpacks, shuffling through the door to lunch. Glimmer, however, didn’t move. 

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Catra asked. 

“Of course, I do,” Glimmer snapped, scribbling her last few notes into the margins. 

Catra stayed quiet for a moment, letting Glimmer work. Her hair was falling into her eyes a little, though it shouldn’t have been possible with how short it was. 

Glimmer pushed herself off the desktop with one hand, jumping down to the floor and throwing her supplies haphazardly into her pack. “I’m late, excuse me.” 

“Feel free to leave, I’m not stopping you.” Catra held up her hands in a placating gesture. 

“Good. I’d beat you up.” Glimmer strode out with a swing of her hips, leaving a trail of light perfume in her wake. 

“Hey, Glimmer,” Catra called out. 

No answer. But Glimmer walked back through the door. 

“Can I take you out sometime?” Catra asked, very casually, just in case Glimmer was a baby gay closeted beyond belief, or straight and completely disinterested. 

Glimmer had the surprised look of someone who’d been punched in the face unprovoked. “Are you serious?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You just...I don’t want you to make fun of me. They’ve told me about you.” 

“Did they tell you that I find you attractive and want to go out with you?” 

“No, not really.” 

Catra snorted a little. “Fine then. I’m not making fun of you, I honestly want to take you to a restaurant for dinner and then a walk or a movie. What do you say?” Catra made eye contact with Glimmer and stared her down for a few seconds, then broke the gaze. Didn’t want to make her uncomfortable right off the bat. 

“I say...let me think about it?” Glimmer was visibly inching closer to the door, so Catra sighed. 

“Yeah, sure. Just let me know, okay?” 

Glimmer nodded quickly and then ran the rest of the way out of the room. 

“Shit,” Catra said under her breath. 

…

Gangs were not a great place for gay people. That probably went without saying. 

Weaver treated gay people along the lines of how she treated most other people: with a vicious vendetta that usually ended in bloodshed. Hordak didn’t give a shit; he usually just let Weaver deal with internal affairs like that. 

Adora didn’t have an opinion on it, as far as Catra knew. Not that she cared what Adora thought. 

Catra found out about gay people from magazines. She determined she was likely gay since at age ten she thought boys were disgusting but all girls were angels. So she didn’t tell anybody, not even Adora. Once she ran her own gang, it didn’t matter as much. Catra punished homophobic shit as severely as possible in the beginning so that people knew not to try anything later. 

But she was lonely. Really lonely. It didn’t matter so much now as it did when she was little, but it still tugged at her body every once in a while. 

Glimmer probably would never say yes. But asking was better than just silently wanting what she couldn’t have. 

…

“Scorpia, I met a girl today.” 

Dropping the pile of books she’d been carrying on the floor with a crash, Scorpia rushed to Catra’s side. “Really? Are you serious? Tell me everything!” 

Catra snickered. “Calm down, Scor. Her name is Glimmer, she’s cute, that’s all.” 

“Describe???” 

“Shorter. Curvy. Pink hair. Sassy, once you get past the blush.” 

“Oh, I know her! She just moved here with her mom. She lives in my neighborhood.” Scorpia knelt on the ground, grabbing books, and Catra stooped down to help her. “She hangs around that guy who always wears crop tops and the blonde chick. Dang, what’s her name…”

“Adora?” Catra asked, feeling horrified and betrayed (but when doesn’t she feel that way about Adora?). 

“Yeah, her.” 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.” Catra dropped the books again on accident. “How is this possible?” 

“Maybe Adora toured the school with her or something,” Scorpia said calmly, bending back down. 

“She’s heard so many bad things about me. Glimmer probably thinks I’ve killed ten people, or hazed freshman girls into dating me and then posted their nudes on Instagram.” 

“Have you?” 

Catra wheeled on Scorpia, horrified and more than a little angry. “No. No, I haven’t killed anyone or made any child pornography. I have severely injured more than ten...twenty people, but only because Weaver forced me to or because they were trying to kill me. Self-defense, Scor!”

“I’m just saying, I’ve beat on my fair share of crazies, but you have a real fear factor surrounding you.” 

“That’s on purpose! I can’t let anybody from the Horde think they can fuck with me, because if I loose the reins even a little, Weaver and her cronies are going to come after me, and then I’ll really be dead. Ouro is stable mostly, but that asshole two months ago challenged, and I had to fight back. This is all to keep my family safe and keep myself alive.” 

Scorpia hefted her books, leaning her chin on top of them. “Be careful that you’re not purposely making yourself untouchable. I think if Glimmer got to know you, she’d care about you as much as I do. But you have to be open to accomplish anything, relationship-wise.” 

“I _ am _ open!” 

“Open to me. Your second-in-command. And nobody else.” 

“You’re the only person I can trust.” And Catra still hadn’t told her everything. 

Scorpia sighed. “Adora betrayed you. She did something selfish, but self-preserving, just like you are doing. Just think about what you would have done in her shoes. Think about why other people do what they do.” 

Huffing angrily, Catra said something affirmative and left the library, walking very fast. People parted like the Red Sea in front of her. She stopped. 

Everyone was afraid of her. Everyone. Except for Scorpia. 

And maybe even Scorpia was afraid. 

…

Scorpia had lived in Horde territory as a kid. Her parents paid their dues but never joined, and Scorpia seemed like she’d do the same. In the months before Catra left the Horde, they used to talk to each other whenever Catra visited the convenience store where Scorpia worked. She’d always been so friendly, even when Catra had been cruel. 

Catra had been so cruel to her. She’d been lonely and Weaver’s beatings had gotten worse since Adora had left. She took it out on Scorpia, who didn’t deserve it. 

After the Horde had left her to die, Catra crawled to Scorpia’s back door. And Scorpia had taken care of her. That was real loyalty. True loyalty. 

She pulled Scor into Ouroboros with her, once she’d taken control. Scorpia didn’t do violence, not like Catra, but the snakes liked her. So she stayed. 

Catra wondered if Scorpia trusted her too much. 

…

“Hi,” Catra called out, cautious in stance but relaxed in tone. 

Glimmer looked up from her locker. “Hi?” 

“How was your day?” God, that phrase felt weird in her mouth. 

“Fine.” Glimmer paused. “How was...yours?” 

Catra shrugged. “Can’t complain.” 

They didn’t talk for a moment; Glimmer finished putting all her notebooks and textbooks into her backpack. Catra shifted her weight back and forth, trying not to look impatient. 

“Do you need something?” Glimmer suddenly snapped. 

“I don’t know, do you need to snipe at me when I’ve done nothing wrong?” Catra snapped back. 

Glimmer’s bravado came down just as quickly as it came up. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” 

“Do you wanna tell me about it?” 

“Not really.” 

Pause. “Do you wanna not tell me about it over ice cream?” 

“Yeah.” Glimmer slung her backpack over her shoulders and strode out of the school, Catra following behind her and marveling at that fact. 

* * *

Catra slowly put her spoon in her mouth. Cookie dough. So good. 

Glimmer had been silently drinking a twenty-ounce chocolate milkshake for the past five minutes. 

“I’m okay with savoring this cookie dough for the foreseeable future,” Catra finally said, “but I would like to talk to you.” 

“Why?” Glimmer asked, not looking away from her milkshake. 

“Because you seemed upset. And if you don’t want to talk about why you can talk my ear off about whatever else instead.” 

“Did you know my mom’s six feet tall?” Glimmer took another sip. 

“No.” 

“Well, she is. Six feet tall, rail-thin, white. She’s on the city council.” She paused. “What are your parents like?” 

Catra huffed, eating a bite of ice cream before she answered. “My mom was really short actually. My dad was of average height, I think. She always looks so much shorter in pictures, though. Her name was Paloma, but dad called her Palomita or Mita. Dad’s name was Antonio, and everybody called him Tony, but mom always called him his full name.” 

“They’re gone?” Glimmer asked softly. 

“Yeah. When I was five.” 

“My dad died while my mom was pregnant with me. Hit and run. He was at the grocery store buying strawberries.” 

“Turf war. My parents were shot side by side near the grocery store on 4th. Holding hands, the romantic idiots they were.” 

Silence for a moment. They ate their respective treats, gazing just a couple degrees off from each other. 

“Do you really want to hear about my day?” Catra looked over at Glimmer, who was resolutely looking at the clock over the top of the counter (another SAT word, damn she needed to stop worrying about it until the scores came in) as if she hadn’t said anything. 

“Yeah, I really do.” 

Glimmer sighed. “I’ve only been at this school since the beginning of the semester. I’ve been trying to catch up on the work, make sure I’ll keep my grades up despite the transfer. But there have been these...bottom-feeders bothering me in class. In the halls. At lunch. My friends...they keep them away, but my friends can’t follow me everywhere. Anyway, they call me fat, say I’m a slut who only gets good grades because I give my teachers...sexual favors. They’ve threatened me if I tell anyone else about what they’ve been saying. They’ll find out where I live and hurt my mom.” 

Catra couldn’t speak. 

“After math class, I was afraid they would find out and start...I don’t know...spray painting ‘dyke’ on my locker. That’s all. I mean, your jacket isn’t the same as theirs. So maybe you wouldn’t. I was just scared.” 

“I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry.” 

Glimmer drank the rest of her milkshake in one long slurp. “It’s not your fault. You don’t take shit from anyone; it seems to just roll off of you.” 

“That’s due to a lot of practice ignoring fuckers like that. It didn’t happen overnight,” Catra replied quietly. 

“Adora and Bow have helped. Adora apparently used to be part of a gang, so she can be really scary when she wants to be. Bow is less scary, but he’s won tons of archery awards for the school, so I guess that’s some level of foreboding.” 

“Yeah, Adora’s pretty badass,” Catra conceded shortly. “Is there anything I can do?” 

Glimmer shook her head. “Not really. I don’t want the wrath of ten gangbangers on my head, thanks.” 

“Which gang?” Catra’s voice was getting dangerously calm and quiet but she couldn’t help it. 

“How am I supposed to know? I haven’t lived here long enough to identify all the gangs on sight,” Glimmer answered sarcastically. “They had red wings on their jackets, I guess. No snake, not like yours.” 

“The Horde. The Horde has been treating you like shit?” Catra said, and it would have been a mumble with her volume but for the poison that had entered her tone. 

“Well, now I know who to avoid, thank you.” Glimmer put a tip on the table. “Are you coming?” 

Surprised, Catra asked, “Where?” 

“I usually don’t eat dinner for another two hours, but I don’t want to just sit here until they kick us out. So. Maybe we walk the streets holding hands, make some tourists stare, make some evangelicals spritz holy water on us like we’re plants. What do you say?” 

“Yes.” 

…

Scorpia knew about Weaver. She didn’t know everything, no one knew everything, not even Adora. 

Catra was going to keep it that way. 

Childhood abuse (unlike parental status) was off-limits on a first date. 

Maybe Glimmer would never have to know anyway. 

…

“God is crying for you, repent your sins!” 

“The only people crying are the ones I put in the hospital!” Catra shouted back over her shoulder, bringing her and Glimmer’s joined hands up to kiss Glimmer’s knuckles. Then, she flipped off the man. It lost a little bit of the romance. 

Glimmer giggled. “I didn’t think we’d terrorize this many religious people. What are we at now, six?” 

“It never gets old,” Catra replied, a small smile on her face. 

Glimmer had moved their hands so their fingers were entangled. Catra was trying really hard not to react. 

“Are you in a gang?” Glimmer’s expression grew serious.

Catra looked down. “Why do you ask?” 

“Your jacket. You actively try to be intimidating. You...sound like you have history with gangs. Your parents.” 

“Don’t bring up my parents.” 

“Well? Are you in a gang?” Catra stopped walking. “I just want to know. It’s safer knowing than not knowing.”

“That’s not true! That’s not true at all!” 

“Yes, it is! Knowing means I can figure out who I can trust and who’s out to get me, okay? If your rivals are after me, the Horde, then I can stick with you and learn from you and maybe scare them away.” 

“That’s a terrible idea.” 

“You were probably thinking about threatening them on my behalf anyway!” 

Catra didn’t answer. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? Of course, that’s how you show affection.” 

“Affection’s taking it a little far,” Catra replied scornfully. “I just met you. You’re best friends with a traitor who ruined my life.” 

“Adora or Bow?” Glimmer retorted. 

“Adora!” People were staring. Catra didn’t care, even though she wanted to, in this one instant. 

“So...she left when you didn’t have the courage to go with her? Is that it? You were too scared?” 

“Fuck yes, I was scared!” Catra yelled. “Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Glimmer just stopped, all of a sudden. “Do you wanna go home?” she asked quietly. “I want to go home.” 

“Sure.” Catra deflated. Shit. She always did this. It always fucking happened and she never learned. “We can get a cab from here, I have some cash on me.” 

Between hailing the cab, getting in the cab, and driving halfway to Glimmer’s house (smack in the middle of the neutral zone closest to Moonstone territory, thank God, those people were weirdly avoidant of civilians), the two of them didn’t speak. They sat on opposite sides of the cab; their hands had come apart during their fight. 

“Let me off here, please,” Glimmer finally said. The cab driver pulled over. 

“Have a good night,” Catra murmured. “Say hi to your mom for me.” She couldn’t bring herself to look up from her lap. 

“Thank you.” She heard Glimmer’s footsteps up to her door but stared out the other window. 

“And where are you headed, young lady?” the elderly taxi driver asked. 

“Etheria High. I left my bike there by accident.” So telling. Ugh. 

If someone had fucked with her motorcycle in the time she’d been gone, heads would roll. The Horde loved signing their work, so at least she’d know. 

…

Catra regretted saying anything deep to Glimmer. Anything personal. 

The last girl she’d dated, and gotten serious with, had been a Horde informant. They staged a raid on Ouroboros territory two weeks after, trying not to cast suspicion on her part in it. But it didn’t work. Catra saw the girl during the fight, running away like the snitch she was. 

It hurt. A lot. But the Horde cronies who (barely) walked away were more hurt. 

…

“Where were you?” Scorpia asked when Catra walked through the back door. She’d made tamales, one of Catra’s dad’s recipes, like she’d known something was wrong. 

“Out with Glimmer.” Catra threw her bag under the table and put her head in her hands. 

Scorpia nodded. “Okay.” She stacked three tamales on a plate. “Eat up, you look tired.” 

Catra ate perfunctorily (ugh, fucking SATs). When she was finished, she put her plate in the dishwasher and began scrubbing the pan that Scor had made the meat filling in. 

“Are you going to do your math homework tonight?” Scorpia asked, putting as much of a scolding tone in her voice as she was capable of. 

“Yeah. I really need to get the volume problems, I always get stuck on them,” replied Catra, rinsing the pan and setting it off to the side to dry. Without another word, she pulled her bag up off the floor and went upstairs to her room. 

Scorpia knew somehow. That it had gone wrong. 

Catra loved her for not saying anything about it. 

* * *

“Two days in a row, Guerrero?”

“She must have a new life-ruining project. Who do you think? Her ex-girlfriend? The scary blonde?” 

“They never dated, that’s hearsay. Plus, maybe she just likes freaking people out by making sure nobody knows her patterns.” 

Catra huffed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Didn’t they have better shit to gossip about? 

On any other day, she’d revel in the attention. Damn, she was off her game. 

“Hey, I guess you were low on cash this week, whoring yourself out to that bitch,” she heard across the hall. 

Catra whipped around to focus on the Horde scum who’d dare to say that in her earshot. “What the fuck did you just say to her?” 

Glimmer stiffened, backing against the locker. Fine, that would just give Catra more space to beat these fuckers up. “I’ll ask again. What the fuck did you just say to her?” 

A dyed-green-haired piece of shit with low-riding pants and brass knuckles responded. “I said she was a whore, and even more disgusting for fucking you for money.” 

“First of all,” Catra slid the handle of her whip out from her jacket sleeve into her hand, “she is not a whore.” He rolled his eyes. “And secondly,” she rapidly whipped the leather around the Horde scum’s neck and tightened it, pulling him in, “if you touch her again, if you look at her again, if you so much as breathe in her direction, you’ll be getting a lot more than rope burn. Do. You. Hear. Me?” 

The asshole nodded, turning red. Catra released him. “Lovely.” She wrapped her whip into a circle and hooked it on her belt, just in time for the asshole to swing at her. 

She slapped him, long nails scraping his skin, and then punched him in the jaw with her other hand. He went down, wailing and moaning like a fucking coward. 

“Get out of my sight.” He scuttled off, his minions tripping over themselves to follow. “I want everyone to witness this and know that Glimmer is under my protection and the protection of Ouroboros. Fuck with her, you fuck with my entire network. Are we clear?” 

The hallway’s occupants nodded in sync. Catra nodded back, picking her bag up off the floor (she couldn’t remember dropping it) and walking to math. She did her homework. 

…

Loyalty. Like she said. It mattered. 

It mattered whether Glimmer wanted to see her again or not. 

Unlike Adora, Catra didn’t abandon people. 

…

“I heard what you did for Glimmer today.” 

Catra turned on Adora. “And? I have nothing to say to you about it. In fact, I have nothing to say to you ever. Leave me alone.” 

“I’m just saying it means a lot to me.” 

“Why would it mean a lot to you? It wasn’t about you, it was about her. You are not under my protection, she is. She…”

“She matters to you?” Adora folded her arms, her ponytail swinging behind her. And that fucking hair pouf was judging Catra with its judgy countenance (okay, Catra was just going for the SAT words now, no more fighting it). 

“None of your business,” Catra snapped back. 

“Fine.” Adora held her hands up in the same placating gesture that Scorpia used, except it definitely didn’t work this time. “I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all.” She walked off before Catra could think of something adequately insulting to say. 

“Fuck,” Catra said under her breath. Well, she had a good reason to go home now. Adora speaking to her was about as bad as the flu, she could play that angle with Scorpia. 

…

Adora didn’t get to thank Catra for anything. Adora didn’t get to be the bigger person. Adora didn’t get to do anything perceivably nice ever again, because it would definitely, completely end in fuckery beyond all chance of remedy. 

…

Of course, reality hated her. On the way to her motorcycle (which Catra probably needed to find a name for), she was stopped by a body in her way. 

“Get out of my way. I’ve had enough violence for one day.” 

Oh shit, it was Glimmer. Maybe she shouldn’t have threatened violence. Bad audience. 

“I’m sorry. I just really want to go home, doll. Long day. I spoke to Adora for the first time in four years and I hated every second. Seriously, I think I got strep from being in her presence.” 

“Stop being a baby,” Glimmer replied, tapping her foot impatiently. “This from the girl who strangled, scarred, and punched the asshole tormenting me and then walked off like you were on a runway.” 

“Excuse you, I am a woman,” Catra started, only to be cut off by a mouth on hers. Glimmer’s mouth, specifically. She wore lip balm like a high-class lesbian and Catra...wasn’t thinking much of anything at that point. 

“Thank you,” Glimmer murmured. Catra could feel her lips move. Holy shit. 

“I’m kinda surprised you even want to talk to me right now, much less-” Glimmer kissed her again. “Yeah, that.”

“Turns out, you were mad at Adora for a reason. I asked her about you-”

“Never a good thing to say to a woman you just kissed-”

Glimmer glared at her. “And she said that she made a mistake leaving you behind. She said that you had a lot more bravery sticking it out than she had for leaving.”

“That’s a pack of lies.”

“Yeah, it is, I just thought it’d be nice to have some closure.” Glimmer sighed. “You are your own person, and Adora is her own person, and I care about both of you.” 

“Please say you never like-liked Adora.”

“No, I never…” Glimmer made a vomiting noise in her throat, “_ like-liked _ Adora.” 

“That is also a lie.” 

“She’s got the knight-in-shining-armor thing going on, okay! It’s really attractive in a woman.” 

“Wait, so you think I’m attractive?” Catra smirked. 

“Dammit, I wouldn’t kiss you if I didn’t think you were attractive. In that knight-in-shining-armor sort of way.” Glimmer smiled. “Thank you, Catra. It means...so much to me. What you did.” 

“You didn’t mind the violence?” Catra asked, trying very hard not to sound timid. 

Glimmer shrugged. “You’re actually pretty gorgeous when you’re beating people up.” 

“And the gang thing?” Catra asked even quieter. 

“Adora told me you single-handedly tore the leadership of Ouroboros away from the grown man who had it. I’m afraid for you, but I know you can handle yourself just fine.” 

“Marry me.” Maybe it sounded a little too sincere. 

“Buy me dinner first. And I expect sexytimes.” 

Catra laughed. “Only you could make the decidedly juvenile word ‘sexytimes’ sound sexy.” 

Glimmer grinned. “It’s a gift.” 

* * *

“They’re coming after you,” Scorpia said quietly. 

“What’re you talking about?” Catra asked through her mouthful of cereal. 

“The Horde. The guy you beat up last week ran to Shadow Weaver and she’s planning an attack on Ouroboros in the next couple days. I’ll let you know when I know more.” Scorpia silently left the kitchen, dish towel draped over her shoulder. 

Catra chewed for a second, then quickly stood up to follow her. “How do you know any of this?” she asked indignantly. “I swear if you’re double-crossing me-”

“I would never!” Scorpia whipped around. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. I have...an informant on the inside.” 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “An informant? On the Horde?” 

Scorpia blushed. 

“Okay, never mind, I don’t wanna know. We have more important things to take care of. Any idea who she’s bringing?” 

“Everyone Hordak will let her bring. We could be looking at seventy-five fighters, all heavily armed and loyal to Weaver alone.”

Catra got the sudden urge to sit down. “Seventy-five? Seventy-five. Seventy-five.”

“She’s been recruiting heavily the past few months.” 

“And I didn’t know about this, why?” 

Scorpia sighed. “Communication blackout after you beat that man who challenged you.” Catra groaned loudly, facepalming. “I’m serious! Broken arm aside, you should have let me in to speak to you every couple weeks, at least.” 

“Shit. Okay, we can handle this, right? Ouroboros numbers are about forty, some people count for about three or four in training and strength, we can match them, can’t we, Scorpia? We can do this, we can fight them off, can’t we?” Catra tried to take deep breaths. “We only have forty people against seventy-five and Shadow Weaver, Scorpia, is it getting hot in here?” 

“No, it’s not, Cat, you need to calm down.” Scorpia put her big hands on Catra’s shoulders and breathed exaggeratedly in and out. “There you go, with me now. It’ll be alright, just think.” 

“We’re outnumbered and outgunned, Scor,” Catra exhaled. “There’s a reason I haven’t tried to attack them before. Politics are so fragile between us and there are so many baby snakes I have to take care of, it just never made any sense to provoke them.” 

“They’re provoking us now, Catarina. And we have to do something, otherwise, we’re all dead in the water.” 

…

Catra should have remembered how many people were in the Horde. 

She’d complained to some of the people in her regular squad about Weaver and Hordak taking huge percentages of loot in the past year. Said that they didn’t deserve it, sitting on their asses in the compound getting rich without lifting a finger. Said that everyone should start lying about their gains to keep more of it for themselves, instead of relinquishing it to two monsters who didn’t care if they lived or died. 

Nobody with a grudge against Catra had snitched on her. Just a new boy who wanted to get in the good graces of the higher-ups. 

That night, faceless creatures pulled her out of bed, throwing her in the middle of a circle. They’d surrounded her. Weaver wanted to make an example out of her, called her ungrateful, called her a worthless cunt who should have been left on the streets to die just like her parents. The others said worse things, cackling in the wake of Weaver’s cruelty. Everyone took turns hurting her. Punched, kicked her. Catra spat blood onto the street, could feel her ribs crack. 

Every person took a turn beating her. She shouldn’t have lost count. She should have remembered every blow and who gave it. But Catra passed out. 

Maybe if she’d stayed awake longer, been stronger, she’d be able to protect her gang now. Save them from decimation at the hands of monsters. 

…

“The numbers are what they are, Catra,” Scorpia finally said, when Catra had calmed down enough to listen. “We can’t do anything about them now. But we can strategize, make sure that we do the maximum amount of damage with the fewest casualties possible.” 

Catra shook her head slowly. 

“Why are you doing that?” 

“Our numbers aren’t set in stone.” 

Scorpia made her ‘I’m supporting Catra even though she’s clearly crazy’ face. “Really? Where are we going to get more people?” 

“I have a very bad idea that involves me having strep throat until this is over.” 

“Strep throat? Catra, what are you talking about?” 

Catra ran a hand through her hair. “I’m going to talk to Adora. On purpose.” 

* * *

“Glimmer? Doll? Honey? Light of my young life?” 

Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Catra?” 

“Can you get me an audience with Her Majesty, the Queen of Traitors?” 

“Adora?” 

“Okay, I’m sick of the questioning voices.” Catra huffed, kissing Glimmer’s cheek. “I’m up shit creek. The Horde is coming after my people and I could use some backup.” 

“How long have you known?” Glimmer asked, her voice getting higher and louder with concern. 

“Keep your voice down, please.” Glimmer settled down, but her hand curled into a tight fist. “My second-in-command has an informant. According to them, the Horde wants revenge for what I did to that dickhead tormenting you, but Weaver’s had it out for me for years.” 

“Catra…” 

“Don’t you dare apologize. None of this is your fault. But I can’t take care of this alone; Adora knows the Horde, knows their patterns. She was higher up in the gang than I was when she left, and she was closer to Shadow Weaver.” 

“Catra, I was going to say it must be really serious if you’re asking Adora for her help.” 

“I’m not asking for her help!” Catra retorted. “I’m asking for her...brief assistance on a small matter of tactics. And perhaps as a fighter.” 

Glimmer visibly released the muscles in her hand, looking down and nudging her foot against Catra’s. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Stay home, the night of. Actually, scratch that, leave town. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going. The Moonstones will be a barrier in case the Horde tries to come after you in town, but it’s better if you just take your mom and go.” Catra nudged Glimmer’s foot back. “And maybe let me have a couple hours with you tomorrow? They aren’t supposed to attack until three days from now and I want you safe before then.” 

“Yes, of course.” 

Glimmer held Catra’s hand. She was a little shorter than Catra, just enough to where Catra could rest her chin on Glimmer’s head without straining her neck. They didn’t need to say anything. Glimmer leaned forward to plant a feathery kiss on Catra’s throat, out of sight of the rest of the hall. 

“For the strep,” Glimmer murmured, flushing red. “I’m kissing it better ahead of time.” 

Catra sighed helplessly. “Well, don’t let me stop you.” 

…

Catra didn’t think she was allowed to be this happy, not now. 

She wouldn’t tell Glimmer to stop making her happy. She wouldn’t push her away. 

But it prodded at the back of her mind. Would this moment be worth it after her family was killed, after Scorpia was killed, after Catra herself was killed? 

The only person left to remember would be far away. 

…

“Adora.”

“Catra.”

“Did Glimmer tell you why I wanted to talk to you?” 

Adora shrugged. “Enough. How can I help?” 

Catra snorted derisively. “I just need some assistance, not help. Just tell me what you know about Weaver’s strategies. She invaded the Moonstones when we were younger, right? What did she say about it?” 

“She said their defenses were paltry and weak. Their front entrance was guarded by twice as many as the back and Weaver was able to cut off the children and their chaperones by flanking the sides of the building. She’s probably going to try and surround you, lay siege and starve out the younger ones, freak them out. The Horde isn’t necessarily subtle, but she is, and she will wait as long as it takes.” She paused. “I would advise a diversion: hide your fighters in strategic locations around the compound and use snipers to take out the Horde members in the back of the crowd.”

“The front lines are always the youngest and most untrained,” Catra recalled, grimacing. 

“That way you keep your fighters from getting too tired and take out the more dangerous Horde soldiers first. Shadow Weaver will never be with the rest of the group, she always employs a completely different tactic. Unfortunately, she will be a wild card. But you can prevent a lot of damage her soldiers would cause otherwise.” 

“You know any snipers I can borrow?” Catra asked, fingering her whip absentmindedly. 

Adora winced. “You aren’t going to like this.” 

“This conversation hasn’t been a picnic for me, I might as well build up my resistance to your antigens.” 

Adora raised an eyebrow. 

“Inside joke. Just tell me what I need to do.” 

…

Reiteration of the obvious: Adora _ sucked. _

…

“Hey, can I come to your house tonight? I need to ask your mom a question,” Catra said through her teeth. 

“Yeah, of course. What about my mom?” Glimmer replied, her voice going quizzical over the phone. 

…

Glimmer’s mother, six feet tall, rail-thin, white, was _ the _Angella Kim. 

As in, the leader of the Moonstones twenty years ago. As in, the greatest sharpshooter in Etheria. As in, the woman who challenged Micah Kim, the frontlines fighter, for leadership in the 90s and beat him in fifteen seconds. 

Angella Kim was a legend. A legend that Catra was about to beg to leave a peaceful retirement to help save her sorry ass against the Horde. 

This was not how Catra had wanted meeting her girlfriend’s mom for the first time to go. 

…

“Mom, Catra’s here!” 

Catra’s limbs twitched with nervousness. Ugh. She felt like going back through the door, starting up her bike, and driving away very fast. 

“Yes, dear, I’m coming.” Angella stepped through the kitchen doorway, wearing an austere pale pink dress and a white shawl that gave the impression of wings curled around her shoulders. “Hello, you must be Catarina.” 

Catra dropped to one knee. “Commander. Respect to you and your house.” 

Angella, rather than looking confused, nodded firmly. “Your respect is noted. However, as we share the same rank, you do not need to kneel.” She held out her hand to Catra, who took it numbly and stood. “Commander Catarina Guerrero Rodriguez. Respect to you and your house.” 

“Thank you, ma’am. I come inquiring after your aid. Shadow Weaver and the Horde are attacking the Ouroboros compound two days from now, and my fighters, while strong and brave, number only half of the Horde’s. Adora Smith, a former Horde soldier, believes that Weaver will surround my forces and then all flood into the compound at once, trapping my soldiers and easily picking them off. The solution she suggested was using snipers to remove the more deadly Horde soldiers from behind, allowing my forces space to fight back.” 

Angella nodded. “I see the merit in this strategy. I will help you.” 

Catra felt tears well up in her eyes. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to Ouroboros, to me.” 

“I have some idea.” Smiling regally, Angella continued, “I have learned from Glimmer and my informants that if not for you and Adora, this city would have ripped apart long ago by power struggles the likes of which I have not seen since Micah and Weaver and I were in our prime. Stopping Shadow Weaver now will prevent her influence growing any further than it already has in my absence.” 

Glimmer grabbed one of Catra’s hands and one of her mom’s hands. “You have to let me fight with you. I don’t want to watch you get hurt without doing anything about it.” 

“For now, we need to contact your friend, Bow,” Angella said calmly. “His definition of sharpshooting is more antiquated but will be useful nonetheless. Rally your troops, Catra. We have work to do.” 

* * *

Silence, sullen and annoyed, painted the room like someone had dumped a can of Behr’s finest on the floor and then left it to dry, uneven and blotchy. 

Damn, Catra needed coffee if that was where her metaphors went. 

“Cough, cough. Oh, shit, I think I’m getting strep. Maybe I should go home before I get any of you sick,” Catra lazily said, feeling very on guard but refusing to let Glimmer know. 

Bow immediately looked concerned but Adora glared at her. “We’re the ones trying to save your gang from utter obliteration. You should treat us better.” 

“Tolerance is my highest level of regard for you, Adora, Queen of Backstabbers.” 

“Would you let it go?” Adora yelled. “It was _ years _ ago, I left in _ middle school_.”

“Yeah, you left in middle school. Long enough for Weaver to-” Catra cut herself off. “If it wasn’t fucking Disneyland before, it sure as hell got worse. She was looking for excuses to blame me and you were the perfect one, just like always.”

“Oh, you would know a lot about blame. Every time there is hardship in your life or you experience failure, you find a way to link it to me. Even though it’s completely unfair to paint yourself as the victim and me as the perpetrator in every scenario. It’s not healthy either, you need to move on.” 

“Adora, Adora, Adora. Using your psychobabble on me so you have an excuse to make everything my fault. Do you ever think that maybe I deserve to be the victim? That maybe, just maybe, everything Weaver did to me wasn’t my fault?” 

“Nothing Weaver did to either of us is our fault! She is a sadistic, manipulative monster who abused us since before we were old enough to know what abuse was and we somehow survived it and became functional members of society.” Adora paused, looking down at her hands, which had clenched on the tabletop. “What I don’t understand is turning your attention onto me for all this time. I did what I needed to do and barely got out, and I thought you could respect that.” 

“I didn’t wanna be left alone,” Catra said quietly. Bow and Glimmer stood in the periphery, fuzzy enough to ignore. “You were all I had in the Horde. We were always together, we always had each other’s backs. But when you left, there was a breach in...trust, I guess. I couldn’t bring myself to make friends or be open with people because I was afraid they’d leave, too.” 

“So, in addition to our childhood abuse, you have abandonment issues as well.” Catra’s eyes shot up to Adora’s face; she smiled a little, just the corners of her lips quirked up, and Catra finally felt like something had changed. 

“Yes, okay? You better pay my shrink bills when I have enough time for one.” Catra stood up and held out her hand for Adora to shake but Adora looped her arms around Catra’s waist to hug her. 

“I really missed you, Catra.” 

“I missed you, too,” she replied, carefully reaching her arms around Adora’s back. And she meant it, a lot more than she thought she would. 

When they broke the hug, Bow and Glimmer suddenly rushed back into view, instead of being in the strange grey place they’d been in during her and Adora’s fight. Glimmer wandered behind Catra’s chair, putting her hands on Catra’s shoulder. “Are we going to beat these assholes or what?” 

“There’s my girlfriend’s vendetta,” Catra replied with a smirk. “Let’s do this.” 

* * *

Darkness splashed across the street, broken only briefly by beams of lamplight. 

“Snipers in position?” Catra asked. 

“Roger,” Bow responded through the walkie-talkie. “The queen and the squire are in position.”

“Cavalry in position?” 

“Princess of Power stationed at the front entrance.” 

Catra rolled her eyes. Adora was being a bit ridiculous with the nicknames, but she’d let that one go. 

“Commander Doll in position at the back entrance,” Glimmer replied, the sound of sharpening metal distorting the transmission. 

“Copy that, Commander Doll. And if I may, you’re looking particularly gorgeous tonight. The shurikens really bring out your eyes. And is that a new bodysuit?” 

“Keep your flirting with my best friend off the central channel,” Adora sniped. 

“Yes, that is my daughter you’re talking about,” Angella added. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Catra turned to another channel. “Scor, do you have any good news?” 

Scorpia sighed. It sounded like she was hefting a large object against the side door. “Everyone under fighting age is in a secret location with some of Angella’s old subordinates. Everyone else is here and ready to fight, but shoring up and barricading the compound is more of a long-term process and there’s no guarantee as to how long it’ll hold. I’m staying here to protect the sanctum when the first Horde soldiers come through.” 

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” Catra switched channels again. “The castle’s defenses are raised. All that’s left to do is wait.” 

Cars didn’t pass in the street. The motion lights in the compound’s driveway remained unlit. The buzzing of the power lines above their heads made Catra antsy. The orange clusters of lights around the main part of town put spots in Catra’s vision. For every crackle of the branches of the tree she’d perched in, she felt more and more on guard. She wanted to do another check over the walkie-talkies but that would only alert any nearby forces to her position. 

She just had to wait. Angella and Bow, as well as several borrowed Moonstone fighters, would be the first alarm to trip at the presence of Horde soldiers. Catra would be well-informed before she saw any action of her own. 

Catra was afraid, more so than ever. So fucking scared of this failing; she had forty people to take care of, as well as Scorpia, Glimmer, and Glimmer’s family and friends. She’d be heartbroken if she lost anybody. Catra had built this for herself, dammit. She wasn’t going to let it go without a fight. 

A gunshot resounded through the street. 

“Move, move, move,” Catra hissed into the walkie-talkie. “Queen and squire, you’re up.” 

“Obviously, dear.” Angella cocked her rifle and as far as Catra could hear, screwed on a silencer. The next ten shots were quieter, followed by thumps as Horde soldiers crumpled to the ground. 

“God, you’re a legend. Glimmer, if you break up with me, please let me keep visiting your mom.” 

“Maybe do your damn job and I won’t have to break up with you,” Glimmer shot back (haha, shooting pun). Catra watched from her vantage point as reflective pointy bits of metal flew through the air at the back entrance to the compound. 

“Yes, thank you, I’m on it.” Catra analyzed the pattern of troops. “Okay, you’ve got four at your three o’clock. Scor, how goes the barricade?” 

“There’s one last hole that I need to patch, but everything else is clear.” 

“Princess of Power?” Catra asked, making a face. 

“Busy!” Adora called, huffing as she knocked out two grown men with her staff. She’d wanted a sword, but Catra had no idea where someone would get something like that in the modern age. Really. A sword. Stupid knight-in-shining-armor stereotypes. Ugh. 

“Fine. Squire?” 

Bow giggled, probably in some unhealthy hysterics. Damn. “They’re falling like bowling pins, Catra. After all, I am shooting them in the heart, not the leg. They can still grab weapons and shoot us back if they’re mostly alive.” 

“Bow-bow, we need to have a serious conversation when this is over about what is appropriate to do to our enemies,” Adora said, viciously smashing the skulls of five people in an uninterrupted streak. 

“You killed them, Adora. They’re dead,” Catra prodded. 

“They could be concussed,” Adora shrugged. “Or they could be the friendly fire that killed your parents or put the hit and run out on Glimmer’s dad.” 

“Never mind, they deserve to die,” seethed Catra. “I’m coming down, now. Everything seems to be under control.” 

She jumped down from the tree, unwinding her whip and pulling out her knife from the sheath on her belt. “Those fuckers are going to pay.” 

“And how, Catarina, do you propose to do that?” a masked woman called from the shadows, bored as if Catra were a child attempting to fly. “I would have thought your propensity for petty revenge and your cowardly nature would make it quite a challenge.” 

“Shadow Weaver,” Catra breathed, tightening her grip on her weapons. “How dare you come into my territory and threaten my family? How dare you attack me on behalf of someone as despicable as the piece of shit I beat up and left whining and crying? He’s the real weak one, not me. I stood up for my gang and you spit in my face.” 

“I attack you on the grounds that you assaulted a member of my gang on no evidence.” 

“He was jeopardizing the safety of my girlfriend. I have the right to protect her.” 

Weaver scoffed, moving under a street lamp. “Protecting Kim’s spawn will be your last mistake. You betray everything that we have been working so hard to build.” 

“A world where you rule the city and subject it to your manipulative and sadistic whims? I never wanted to build a world like that.” Catra planted her feet in a fighting stance. 

“Your rhetoric is a disappointment. Did Adora feed you those words?”

“No-” Catra protested, but she looked around. 

“I had Rogelio disable your walkie-talkie while you were vomiting unearned bravado.” Weaver slid closer to Catra as if her legs were tentacles. “I suspect Adora and Glimmer are screeching in an unseemly manner, attempting to communicate with you.” Pausing, Weaver’s hand slipped from her sleeve, a blade flashing in her fist. “Did you think I wouldn’t predict your movements? I knew there was a snitch in our midst and I let our strategy slip earlier than it would have been released originally. Angella and that disgusting child stationed in the apartment building across the street were an interesting touch, but my soldiers are already penetrating the compound. Adora has been compromised, and I intend to take her back, remind her who her real allies are, make her believe whatever I want her to believe. Glimmer, that idiotic bitch-” 

“Don’t you dare touch her,” Catra spat, not bothering to wipe her eyes, letting tears run down her face for the first time since the Horde removed her. 

“She’ll be fun to kill. I want to take my time. That slut deserves everything coming to her for sullying herself with you-” 

“Shut up.” 

“Finally, I’ll be able to take away everything you ever cared about, leave you in the dirt to die, but finish the job this time. No more eking out your pathetic existence pretending as if you aren’t worthless and disgusting-”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll let you watch Adora betray you again, this time I’ll make her rip you apart, I’ll make Adora rip Glimmer apart once I’m done with her and you’ll watch and do _ nothing _-”

Catra flicked her wrist and the whip coiled around Weaver’s neck. She pulled it as tight as she could, yanking Weaver toward her by the neck. “Now, I’m going to tell you what I will actually do. I will kill you, leave you bleeding pint after pint of blood onto the asphalt.” 

“I’ll come back,” Weaver rasped. “I always,” she choked, “come back.” 

“Not tonight.” Catra breathed into Weaver’s ear, “No one is coming to save you tonight.” 

Pain shocked through Catra’s system. She tightened the whip; the bruises were forming on Weaver’s neck already. “You are not going to win, never again,” Catra huffed, trying to breathe through the pain. Weaver had stabbed her, leaving the faintly triangular blade in Catra’s stomach. Catra remembered that knife. 

Using her other hand, Catra thrust her knife through Weaver’s spinal cord, shattering two or three vertebrae. Once she felt all of the bone and muscle give, she drew the knife back. Blood sprayed from Weaver’s body, coating Catra’s hand and arm. She released the whip and pulled the mask off of Weaver’s face. 

Scars marred her every feature, cutting through her nose and eyes and slicing up her cheeks. Catra watched her for any sign of life, checked her pulse as it got weaker and weaker. 

God, her stomach hurt so bad. Shit, shit, shit, shit, inhale, exhale. 

She laid Weaver down on the ground as best as she could, feeling Weaver’s throat pulse with blood flooding out of her body but her heart dead in her chest. Catra held a hand over her stomach to keep the knife in place. She couldn’t bleed out, not now. 

“Catra? Where are you?” someone called desperately. Catra turned around. 

Glimmer. Blood-spattered and whole. And gorgeous. 

“Hey, doll. I’m hurt.” 

“You shouldn’t have dropped your walkie-talkie then, sorry you’re hurt that I didn’t come back you up,” Glimmer said, wiping some of her shurikens off on her clothes. “I was really scared actually, why are you being so-” She dropped her throwing star. “What is that?” 

“Weaver stabbed me,” Catra huffed. “I killed her so if I die now, I’m going to be really pissed.”

Glimmer rushed forward as Catra hit the ground. Everything got fuzzy after that. 

* * *

“Is she dead?” Catra tried to ask, but her mouth felt like someone had shoved cotton into it. 

A person of unknown origin slid an ice chip into her mouth. She sucked on it. It felt so good. 

“Is she dead?” she asked again, her vocal cords scraping together but a little less now. 

“Yes,” Adora said formally. “Shadow Weaver is dead. Her spinal cord severed and the blood loss would have killed her anyway. I’m proud of you.” 

“Psh, I don’t need you to be proud of me.” Catra tried to sit up, but Adora pushed her back down. 

“No, I am proud of you,” Adora replied softly. “You did something neither one of us did when we were in the Horde and the city is a better place now.”

“Oh.” Catra squirmed in her bed, wincing at the throbbing in her stomach. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you.” Adora wrapped her arms gently around Catra’s shoulders, being careful not to jostle her bandages. “Thank you, Catra.” 

“You’re welcome,” she murmured back. 

Adora drew back. “Glimmer’s gonna be pissed that I got in here ahead of her. Angella used her ‘force of nature’ tendencies to allow non-family in to see you in the first place.” 

“You guys are my family.” Catra nodded. “Yeah, that’s about right.” 

“Well, in that case…” Adora left the room and came back with a fucking herd of people. Glimmer ran in trailing Adora, Angella and Scorpia following, Bow and several nervous Ouros behind them, and a woman Catra had nearly forgotten about. 

“Lonnie García? You’re Scor’s informant?” 

Lonnie went red real quick. “So what if I am?” 

Catra rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I should’ve seen this coming. No wonder you were always so gross around her. Ain’t everybody here for some butch girls?” 

Adora raised her hand, smirking. Lonnie blushed darker, if that was humanly possible, and Scorpia followed suit. “Damn, you kids are easy to fluster,” Catra said, smiling devilishly (she can totally use that adverb, okay, she’s feeling it). 

“Excuse Catra, she thinks it’s really funny to poke at people,” Glimmer cut in, sitting on Catra’s lap. 

“I’m excused, doll, I’m lying in a fucking hospital bed.” The room went silent. Maybe it was a little wrong to be joking about being stabbed this early. “Anyway, how are things going? Has anybody tried to get us back for Weaver’s death?” 

Lonnie shook her head. “No one liked her but we were too afraid to say anything. Hordak just shrugged when we told him and went back to his,” she waved a hand indistinctly, “experiments. He’s uninterested in leading the Horde anymore, and Weaver handled a lot of that on her own, so he’s going to promote someone to lead in his stead again soon.” 

“Please say doucheface died during the battle,” Catra said, lacing her fingers through Glimmer’s. 

Angella nodded solemnly. “When my daughter pointed him out to me, I made sure to shoot him in the gut, to make his death more drawn out and painful.” 

“Damn. Remind me to never piss you off.” Catra turned to Bow (well, ‘turned’ implied she twisted her torso, which was currently in a great deal of pain despite the good drugs; she just turned her head and shoulders). “Are you doing alright?” 

Bow folded his arms, uncomfortable. “Yeah. It got kinda ugly, but Angella found me a therapist from her Moonstone days. Spinnerella’s nice and her wife keeps making me spiderweb-themed desserts so things are getting better.” 

Psh, therapy. She remembered when she first tried to get a therapist. She realized she couldn’t afford one and that all of them were mandatory reporters, so she couldn’t tell them about all the missions she’d been on and exactly what Shadow Weaver had done to her without Weaver coming after her. 

Okay, maybe Catra did need therapy now. That paragraph was incredibly depressing to think. 

“Good for you, Bow,” Adora responded, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him on the forehead. Glimmer got up to hug him too, leaving Bow sandwiched between his best friends. 

Catra smiled (but a small one, so people would have a harder time judging her for it). (Nope, Lonnie was making a judgy face and Scorpia was beaming uncontrollably, ugh.) “Hey, snakes. How’s the rebuilding effort going?” 

One of her younger subordinates (he was only fifteen, Jesus) stepped forward. “The sanctum was untouched, Commander. Only a few people managed to get through the walls of the compound, but Scorpia and Lonnie apprehended them before they even got past the kitchen.” 

“Who’d we lose?” 

He looked at the floor. “Five people. James, Ramirez, Johnson, Fujimoto, and Barnes.” 

Catra looked down, too. “They were brave and loyal and will be remembered.” She pulled her head back up. “All of their loot goes to their families, and I’ll chip in a thousand dollars each.” 

Diaz nodded. “Yes, Commander.” The group in the doorway didn’t speak for a few moments; Catra fiddled with the edge of her bedspread. 

“Who let all of you in here?” a nurse asked indignantly, shoving through the horde (ha) of people. “Two visitor limit, you heathens. She needs to rest.” He briskly took Catra’s vitals and checked the bandages. “We’re going to have to change those in a couple hours.” Catra nodded. “Good. I need everybody out. You can pick two people to stay.” 

Angella shook her head. “We’ll all go except Glimmer. We apologize for flouting the rules.” Catra snickered behind her hand. Angella herded the group out of the room and down the hall, where they jostled into the elevator. The nurse left and Catra was left alone with Glimmer. 

Glimmer walked back over to the bed. She motioned for Catra to budge over; Glimmer climbed on top of the covers and turned toward Catra, laying her head on the pillow. 

“Are you okay with this?” Catra asked quietly. 

“Okay with what?” 

“I killed somebody yesterday.” 

Glimmer smiled gently. “You killed someone three days ago. You’ve been asleep and healing for a while.” 

“Doesn’t that bother you, though? I murdered her in cold blood and left her body on the ground with her head only half attached to it. I _ killed _ Shadow Weaver.” 

Shaking her head, Glimmer replied, “Short answer? No, it doesn’t bother me.” 

“Long answer?” Catra wondered desperately. 

Glimmer didn’t answer for a moment. 

“Long answer?” Catra repeated. “You’re killing me with the suspense.” 

“My mom used to tell me stories of Weaver, you know. Like ghost stories.” Glimmer flipped onto her back, looking at the ceiling. “She’d say that Weaver was a vicious woman, crawling the streets, ready to jump out and kidnap civilians, leaving them for dead in the highway ditches. Weaver was the monster in my closet. I told my friends at school about her, but we didn’t live here, so they didn’t know what I was afraid of, why seeing people in masks at Halloween scared me so much. 

“When we moved back here, the fear returned, just in the corner of my mind. The Horde members at school made that fear a whole lot worse. I started looking for her, convinced she was watching me.” Glimmer grasped for Catra’s hand. “And then I realized something. Everything that I’d been feeling about Weaver since I was little was nothing compared to how you felt about her, being-” She broke off. “Being abused by her. Your entire life. Being manipulated by her.

“Adora heard some of what Shadow Weaver said to you. How she could make you feel so hopeless and so angry. There’s no...not recovering...there’s no return to factory settings with her. You’re forever different. And I love you for it. But I’m not bothered that you killed her. Someone who could do that to another person, especially a child, and know exactly what they’re doing and not stop, doesn’t deserve prison.” 

They were quiet. 

“You love me anyway?” Catra tugged at Glimmer’s hand to get Glimmer to look at her. “You care about me that much?” 

Glimmer hummed, reaching her other hand up to cup Catra’s cheek. “I would have killed her myself had I known where she was. But I didn’t want to rob you of the opportunity.” 

…

One of the purposes of teachers and parents was to inform children of morality, what was right and what was wrong. Hitting other kids was wrong, but holding the door for other kids was right. Silly shit like that. 

Religion, of course, had another version of the ‘this is right and this is wrong’ concept. It depended on the religion, but theoretically, the message was the same: treat other human beings with kindness, how you’d treat yourself, and love other people. Anything less fell into the ‘this is wrong’ category. In practice, religion didn’t always do that well with their own message. Ironic, the ‘practice what you preach’ idiom. 

In gangs, right and wrong was surviving another day or dying horribly. That simple. Catra liked simple. 

Sadly, that strategy rarely worked in real life. Sticking up for one’s existence rarely meant treating other people well, much less one’s mental well-being. 

Killing people was generally considered to be wrong. Self-defense was one thing, one fairly defensible thing in court, and people shamed women for using that strategy in dangerous scenarios all the time. But depending on the race, gender, religion, etc. of the perpetrator and victim, murder could be justifiable or unjustifiable in other ways. 

According to the wide world, Catra (a Latina woman with gang affiliations) had committed first-degree murder against Shadow Weaver (not her real name, but she was thirty years older and seemingly unarmed). 

But Catra had something that the wide world couldn’t dream of prosecuting her for: a history of childhood abuse and forty-five people willing to verify that Shadow Weaver had stabbed her unprovoked and there was no evidence to connect Catra to her attacker’s death. 

Loyalty. That was what she had. Finally. 

…

“Doll, you wouldn’t mind helping me into this chair, would you?” 

Glimmer rolled her eyes at Catra’s attempt at swagger (it was really difficult to look hot in a hospital gown, okay? She was trying her best). “What would you do without me?” She swooped Catra into her arms (bridal style) (holy shit what kind of beautiful porn dream was this?) and carried her the few feet to the wheelchair outside her room. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Hey, marry me?” 

Glimmer beamed. “You still haven’t taken me to dinner. How dare you ask me that without paying for food?”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank L and E, the wonderful humans who looked at this long-ass document for me. They are my writing heroes. 
> 
> Last name explanation: Catra is Latina (mexicana specifically) and Glimmer is Korean. Most of the characters in She-Ra are badass people of color and I wanted to reinforce and celebrate that. Glimmer is half Korean because Micah and Castaspella (Glimmer's dad and aunt) both have Korean voice actors: Daniel Dae Kim and Sandra Oh. Kim was taken from Micah's voice actor's last name. Catra's last name is in the style of Mexican last names: Guerrero Rodriguez, Guerrero from her father's last name and Rodriguez from her mother's last name. If she has to use one last name, she uses Guerrero. I want to be as accurate as possible so please correct me if this is wrong. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this, it's become very special to me. Hopefully, the next season won't kill us so profoundly.


End file.
